#getting closer!

"Jesus."

This time, the curse rumbles through a voice mod, disguising the speaker as well as the familiar helmet over his face.

"James," Lena gasps.

Her chest feels heavy, making her breaths labored and gasping. However she's managed to generate the heat filling the room, it's clear to her now that she's not immune to her own magic.

Blinking heavily, she catches a slow glimpse of James removing his Guardian helmet and tossing it aside. He taps a finger to his ear.

"Kara, we've got her."

A gloved hand cups her neck and jaw, his eyes warm with concern.

"It's okay," he reassures her. "We've got you."

She doesn't have the breath to respond. Her head rolls on her neck as he picks her up, smoothly sliding his arms under her bound body and lifting as though she weighs nothing at all. It strikes Lena's heat-addled as odd-- surely, her body is leaden enough that he should be struggling to carry her.

But James merely shrugs his shoulder under her head until its resting close to his neck. Her eyes slip closed as they move from the heatbox to the cooler corridor outside. The colder air chills against her sweat-slick skin, but she's still so hot.

Too hot.

The next thing she knows James is kneeling, laying her legs on grass but keeping her upper body elevated, still cradled in his arms.

"Alex, quick!"

His call is answered by a snip of clipped plastic, and then her ankles finally part as the ziptie falls away.

"Bring the sheets!" Alex calls. Another snip, and her wrists are free. Her arms hang limp behind her, numb to any attempt to move them. "Now!"

"Here!"

Nia's voice now. There's a rustle of soaked fabric and ice cold sheets envelop Lena. Hands-- Alex's, Lena thinks, distantly-- press the fabric to her cheeks before looping it over her head. Ice packs tuck under her arms and at her groin and against her neck, the pressure sharp with urgency.

"She's too hot," Alex observes, her voice short but even. Her doctor voice. "Lena."

Hands frame her face, giving her cheeks a sharp shake. "Lena!"

Lena tries to open her eyes, and her eyelids try to obey, but she can feel her eyes rolling against her will.

"Lena, listen to me. We've got you." Alex's grip on her face turns insistent. "You can stop. You need to stop."

The part of her mind still present knows what's happening. She's overheating. If they don't get her temperature down soon... unconciousness.

Brain damage.

Death.

The only trouble is, she can feel herself wrapped tight around her magic, clutching it in a death grip that refuses to let go.